An’ they talk a lot o’ lovin’, but what do they understand?
Beefy face an’ grubby hand—
Law! wot do they understand?
I’ve a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
On the road to Mandalay—
Ship me somewhere east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Where there aren’t no Ten Commandments, an’ a man can raise a thirst;
For the temple-bells are callin’, an’ it’s there that I would be—
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin’ lazy at the sea—
On the road to Mandalay,